Lip Scar
by swancy
Summary: AU. Emma is being under arrest and gets eleven months in women's prison. She hasn't even recovered her broken heart and yet, she's in love. Not speaking of those breathing down her neck. {Multi-ship/SQ}
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This story has been kindda based on TV series Orange Is the New Black. Plot is original. Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters.**

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(fractionally updated)

_Chapter one: Welcome, princess_

Red changed into green and wheels almost instantly creaked against the road as they accelerated, so sharply that she slid along a soft surface of wooden desk on the other side and her shoulder hit the cold metal wall of pickup's door. Her sight was slowly getting adapted in the dark which they'd locked her in. There was a grid between the space they placed her and a cab with two armed men. And just a little of light was penetrating through a black curtain pinned to it. Next fifteen minutes she was absorbing a pain in her stomach and trying to find the most comfortable position for her to get rid of the spasm in her right arm caused by chains holding her wrists behind her back. They didn't even bother to re-shackled her. The car stopped and she slid back, smashing the other shoulder. Her calmness was quite persistent even after the scuffle with one of those guards while processing her transport but now, it was an anger arousing inside her. She heard them getting off and the big heavy doors to a possible freedom, which she wasn't going to have for some time anyway, began opening. The light from outside hit her eyes and a white smudge was everything she could see before someone's hand appeared and pulled her violently out. They'd been treating her like some pariah, as if she was a puppet whose strings they were handing over and over again. Mostly before the trial. Although, the blame was on him, any way. The treacherous bastard who had her wrapped around his little finger messed with her love and then just left her right on a doorstep of justice like some worn goods, completely vulnerable. And the only difference was that he was the one she wanted to listen and they were who she had to.

"Move!" barked a voice behind as it made her to wince. The two who brought her there already disappeared in the white police pickup and carefully drove out of the gate. She rolled her eyes and found herself standing on a kind of big empty parking which was just a part of much larger area surrounded by a high stone wall topped with a barbed wire. There stood fourth patrol towers in every corner, each having its own rounded reflector, and right in front of her loomed a giant grey building. As her stare was looking up the high, the man sighed and slammed the butt of his gun into her back. She stumbled forward and just spit through her clenched teeth: "I'm not deaf."

"What's your name then?" He appeared next to her, holding his Tommy close to his chest as they were walking toward _the end of her._ She wanted to look at him but felt too scared to meet his eyes which was obviously staring down at her.

"Ehm... Emma." Her husky voice went out. She cleared her throat. Woman like her always belonged to that type of person who didn't talk much. May because there often was no one who to talk to. She was a kind of loner, since she'd left the system and even before. As an orphan in a big house with other children, there was always a place to hide, run out of this world and imagine what her family would be like.

"You can forget all of those, your majesty. No one will use them," he paused. "Swan." She rolled her eyes again. Arrogance, that was one of the things to hate about men and which attracted her after all, though. Even that, to fall in love with a guardian of the Act was still a way better option of avoiding this circus. _What did you hope for with the hopeless outlaw? _She encouraged herself and her eyes traced the bottom half of his body and a little further. He was wearing a black army boots and dark blue trousers. His light grey t-shirt, whose short sleeves encircled his shaped biceps, was covered with a bulletproof vest.

"You know my name," she said reproachfully with a slight question mark in the end. "Why do you even talk with me?" she asked firmly now, without any chance to think it through, as it surprised Emma, herself. But her mouth kept going as her thoughts did. "If you think I'll be your stool pigeon or whatever, you're wrong,... Mr. Jones." She voiced and her eyes slid from the label, clipped to a pocket on his chest, up to his face. He was _pretty_ normal. His jaw line was manly like his drawn up body. Hair had short, thick and dark, really nothing to care about in the morning. His profile seemed quite good as he was staring forward. But as soon as she met his bright blue eyes which glanced at her laughingly, her own instantly found their way down to the ground.

They came to a big steel door and he typed a number code on a small tablet placed in his eye-level on a wall. 7 numbers. A sound from the little loudspeaker beeped twice, wrongly. He smashed it with fist and pressed the button above to dial someone. Now, she noticed the fingerless leather gloves he was wearing.

"0715, I've got the newbie with me." The doors clicked and opened. They walked in and stopped by a something that looked like a gatehouse.

"Swan." He bent to the window where sat a green-eyed brunette behind. She put her book down and typed the name on a keyboard to check it and then nodded, standing slowly up. He turned Emma around and unlocked her chains.

"She's gonna take care of you now." He whispered, his mouth placed too close to her ear and added: "I'll be waiting for you there." The little fear in her immediately replaced a kind of serenity. She just felt safely with him as if he was a friend or it may have been only the gun that protected with. _You idiot, he is just making fun of you. He did this like thousand times. He's bored, need to let some steam off by flirting with the lost girls in here._

"Follow me!" the woman ordered and headed toward the door on her right while he disappeared behind the door in front of her. She was scared by herself about how much she wished he could go instead. Like she was going to eat her up or what...

"Strip off," she said annoyed and Emma quickly got why he couldn't. She acted restrained before reluctantly did while the woman was picking her a new clothes. If there was a color she hated more than anything, it was orange.

"All your jewelry, wallet or whatever put into this box," the brunette pointed on a table where Emma dropped her clothes. She turned and found her pockets again to rummage them. Car keys, some money and straightened paper clip. A smile formed across her face. She hoped that at least the keys to her beloved bug she'll see again if there is who to give it back. She placed it all into the box and turned to the woman who frowned. "Phone?"

"I don't have any," Emma responded, still standing there completely naked. She just shook her head, looking surprised. She was. It was nice to see there were still people whose lives didn't depend on digital devices.

"Who doesn't these days?" she mumbled and stepped closer. "Get down on your knees, spread your thighs and cough."

After dressing up she continued to a corridor, where she finally saw Jones. He was resting against a wall. And instead of the gun, a police baton was hang on his belt.

"Let's make a tour," he threw his head in a direction of the endless hallway. "Bathrooms are quite new but it's on you all how long they'll stay like that." He smiled a crooked smile. They were almost in a halfway when a door slammed behind them and a breathless man with bleeding temple were approaching. His fingers were red as he was trying to wipe it away. He was dressed similarly as Jones, just whole in black. "I need your help!"

"Are you fucking kiddin'?"Jones laughed, grabbing his chin to turn his head and take a look. "You beast."

"She's like on the loose." He breathed out and then finally noticed Emma who was utterly frozen from the fact that this did some of the prisoners.

"Man, I've got something right now." Jones adjusted his belt, seeing his friend looking all he way down Emma and then back at him. "Okay, wait here." He pointed on him and placed his other hand on Emma's back, pushing her forward. _Is he gonna leave me there? _She started panicking as they walked through the door with board exit above and appeared outside, on a big yard where other women in orange were. _Can i wait inside? It wasn't that bad there._ But as soon as she looked over her shoulder she captured a sign 'don't entry' airy painted on the door which were closing now.

"Sorry, love. Somewhere else need me." He stopped and looked around. "Red?!" His voice echoed as everyone turned to them, mostly staring at Emma. If she could just bury herself deep under the ground. A slim brunette with red dyed strands of her hair standing far at the wire fence, which separated the areal and woods, walked toward them. "Yes?" She asked as she came, almost ten inches taller than him.

"This is Swan. I want you to show her how things are going on here, okay?"

"Of course," she smiled sweetly and in that moment a big stone fell down Emma's heart. _She looks fine. _Her reason for being there was surely the same stupidity as Emma's was. In the wrong place, at the wrong time.

The girl grabbed her arm, taking her immediately away from him, though, she kept staring at his back till he was gone.

"We've been waiting for you, Swan," she said excitedly. "I'm Lucas but everyone calls me Red."

Lucas took her through every corner in this place. Dinning room was quite big despite it seemed there weren't so many people. Just the bathrooms, which were contrary, too cramped. Food had been delivering from somewhere in big cans everyday and volunteers were rigging some meal up from it. Actually, a lot of stuff did the girls on their own here. Jail cells were placed next to each other in a rectangle on two floors. Some full of those who had no desire to breathe the thick air outside. Red's was on the first, shared with someone named Aurora. Downstair, were both sides separated by a corridor to the yard. On the other side, where were also the stairs up, was a door to another hall ending with the dinning room. Bathrooms were on the left. A laundry on the right. All it was just a jumble of doors and corridors.

Now, they were sitting on a bench outside. Red was talking about something whose beginning Emma somehow missed. Actually, most of the things that Lucas had said, her brain wasn't able to process because her speech was too quick and comprehensive, so her mind was dealing with another problem.

"Eh, Red?" she interrupted her and was endowed with her beautiful smile. "Perhaps, I watch movies too much but... is there any gang I should be worried about? You know, as a new one."

"I get it. Look," she nodded and turned away from her. But she didn't found who she was looking for so she turned back to Emma, who looked surprised how serious the brunette took her joke .

"There are religious fanatics, kindda radical but harmless, then these," she inconspicuously pointed at the black women, chilling far at a wall of the building, some standing, some in a squat. "They don't care of 'us' until you piss them off," Red shrugged and paused for a moment. "... and then, there are.. do you see the tall blonde behind?"

Emma nodded. She was talking with another one whose hair had color like a fox fur. Both were skinny and pretty. Even the terrible orange overalls quite suited them. She was wondering about how these girls got there, where they were. She was too curious to know the story of anyone but then, she imagined herself talking about her own story and she'd rather remain to shut because there will never be words for this fucked life and what she felt.

"They could be your problem."

"They're two." Emma raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips, unintentionally. The brunette just laughed and poked her into arm. "The rest is in solitary."

"She's the leader?" Emma asked watching the second woman whose hair matched with the prison uniform. Red shrugged, looking between the bench boards at the top of her shoes which she was burrying into the wet loam and stammered: "A kind of, yeah," she frowned and looked up, avoiding to look at the blonde, before putting her smile back on, pointing behind Emma and continuing; "And there we are. It's not such a formed group. We welcome everyone but don't count with many advantages," she tilted her head and some red strands fell from behind her ear. There stood a small group of laughing girls, one of them asian as Emma noticed.

"It's on you to choose where you want to belong but I'd like to introduce you at first. Girls were really looking forward to see you," she jumped up and pulled Emma up too to take her with when a siren began to toot. Emma winced as it scared her poor soul. Her heart was beating so fast and she saw everyone slowly resorting inside.

"That's a notice to get back to our places. I'm sorry girl but I have to -"

"I don't get any jail cell yet, where am I supposed to go?" Emma grabbed Red's hand, which dropped her second ago.

"I don't really know. We'll see at the dinner, Swan" she smiled one more time and caught up with her friends, wrapping around one's elbow.

"When is it? Red?" Emma desperately screamed but she was already too far and the hooter too loud. The door closed behind the last one and she stayed there alone. Under a grey sky in a completely silence. Right as she was used to keep herself, isolated. She sat back on the bench. Tears were gathering in a corners of her forest eyes but did not spill. Wind caressed her cheeks and she pressed her knees against her chest, heels stuck between an edge of the first and second wooden board. She felt the wind getting stronger and colder and the warmness was leaving her body.

"Swan?!" a known voice cried. Jones was standing where she'd come in here before and waved on her to follow him. Her feelings were like on a rollercoaster. When you're getting slowly up the top, stressed and full of expectations. When you reach it and you're glad there's no more time for thinking and feel ready for anything because you are higher than your pessimism and uncertainty which you left down on the platform. And then, the excitement, happiness and confidence which comes lately with the courage you've finally found in yourself, while hurtling down.

She was in that part of drive where it's like up and down, up and down and over and over again. Her entire life seemed stuck in there. Any height to be afraid of just sickness and dizziness.

She was stressed by how much she's glad to see him, waiting for the explanation of this obvious hitch. He led her into a room with table and one chair in the middle. If there a was a large mirror on the opposite wall one would have think it's an interrogation room.

"I need you to wait right here," he scratched the back of his neck. His ocean eyes were so comforting unlike his acting. In his look had been hidden worries and now, under the fluorescent tube, she finally saw his face properly, not afraid anymore. The thick eyebrows and stubble underlined his virility, though, there as if also were features of a child.

"What's going on?" she asked as he utterly pressed her into the chair. Her fingers instantly caught the table not to fall over.

"Everything's alright. We're just can't find a vacant cell, that's all," he said over shoulder and was gone, again. She slowly and angrily finished her question about how long it will take. The first twenty minutes were never-ending. Especially, when everything she could think about was her own survival. She thought about the woman who punched the guard, if she belonged to the tall girls' group. If she could beat her up just with the red haired woman's order. She thought about herself lying somewhere in a corner, squirming in pain, bleeding because of saying something inappropriate and inciting everyone against her. The next two hours passed a little faster. She was trying to keep balance on hind legs of the chair, making some sit-ups, walking around or just playing with a switcher. Her forehead landed on the desk as she sat back and closed her eyes. In that moment she heard some voices but understood after they stopped right behind the door.

"I thought you tamed her, you know," Jones' voice said playfully followed by a whispering of the other guy. She straightened in order to hear a word but unnecessarily.

"No way! Let's just see." Was a response to that. A long pause came until Jones spoke again: "Though, you've got my admiration, mate." and walked in.

"Jesus!" Emma burst and stood up.

"Sorry, Swan. If you're ready, I'll show you your new place." He winked and held the door for her. They walked outside the office building and headed to the bigger one where whole the prison palace was.

"May I ask something?" Emma looked up on him and he muttered, not even looking at her, which she translated as a 'that depends..'

"What happened to the man?" The tone of her voice was unbelievable stable due to that panic suffusing her body. He eventually glanced at her and smiled a sheepish smile. "You mean..." this smile quickly change into laugh and he shook his head. "He helps to train dogs. She's new one like you and still a little aggressive." He was extremely proud of himself and how that answer came up. But he didn't know what Emma did, her secret superpower, so her persistent frightened expression was a mystery. She felt a cold water drop falling onto her head. Clouds were really darker than before and as they finally got in, it was pretty raining. Whole room was suspiciously quiet. Everyone was in their cell and sets of eyes stared at her.

"You have a cellmate," he said as if he was throwing her a life buoy.

"I do?" Her eyes were avoiding to look around so she just stared down on tips of her shoes, counting. They passed five jail cells before he stopped, pressed a transmitter against lips and ordered: "one-zero-two open!" After that, cell bars clicked and opened. She found his eyes again, waiting for words that were never about to come. Her legs apparently lost control and got her inside, even when the rest of her body desired to run away. She heard it to click again and turned to see herself locked up. Jones nodded at her and walked away. To many times she saw his stranger's back that day, causing her to feel alone. He wasn't her friend and someone who would want to help her at all but with him, she just felt safely. That way like few weeks ago when the whole world seemed perfect and her past was for a while forgotten.

"Welcome in a prison, princess," a voice of Fox Hair on the opposite side croaked and she pursed her thin pink lips in a kiss. Her elbows were resting on places between the bars, her hands out of cell making a heart. Emma felt her hot tears willing to escape but she turned away instead. Few steps in front of her, on the left, was a bed with smudgy mattress. No blanket, no pillow. But right on the other were blankets and pillows twice, messy dropped. However, her attention paid a woman huddled in a hind corner behind the bed. Sleeves of her overall were rolled up to her shoulders, uncovering a pretty colorful bruise, and her black raven hair, slightly touching them, was hiding her face as she had her head ducked. Emma noticed a white cord ending up on a floor with walkman. _I need to get one too._


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for the reviews and follows. I really appreciate it and that you like it. I also don't want to confuse you so characters might have more than one pairing but eventually it's swanqueen.**

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_Chapter two: Stay Back, Stay Alive_

After sitting onto the robbed bed, which was supposed to be a source of her usual nightmares, now, she placed her head into her palms, propping elbows onto her knees. Her cellmate put the fallen strands of her hair behind her ear, head still ducked and eyes casted down. Emma shamelessly stared at her with opened mouth. Her eybrows were in a perfect shape, there was a birthmark inch from a corner of her mouth, full lips with a hint of red, as if there was a lipstick before, were apart, mouthing lyrics of a song she couldn't hear. She could say that was more that satisfied with that one, in that moment. No intrusive conversations full of sensitive questions. Loneliness made a kind of zone around her, the same Emma was also used to keep. Normal people call it personal space. But for Emma, it meant something more. It was her safe place no one could as a rule entered until she let them. Place, representing defensive shield and reminding where her boards are. While being drowned in her deep thoughts, the brunette looked up at her, instantly chasing Emma into a corner. She shut, smiled an embarrassed smile and strightened, stretching her back. Unfortunately, feeling how awkward she acts. _Now or never._

"Hey," her voice split the air. The brunette did not answer, instead, she put her earphones out and dropped them on the music player lying on a ground, keeping her eyes fixed with Emma's, who encouraged herself not to look away and show her weakness. But the dark chocolate eyes full of hate were burning her through. A sound of beep echoed throughout the building and every cell door opened. The brunette stood up and headed out before stopping in a doorway and turning to not breathing Emma, who noticed a scar which decorated her cellmate's upper lip as the light from corridor hit her face.

"Hey... ?" she finally responded with a raspy deep voice sliding down some octaves like she was eventually asking, not believing it was said. After that, she turned and continued out. _Weirda. _Emma sharply inhaled and chill ran down her spine. She also stood up and mingled with the crowd, nevertheless, not going right where they were to. At least, she thought that until someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back while passing a booth with large glass window for supervisors.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" Big grey eyes with long lashes blinked at her. "I just didn't want you to get lost." Red smiled and Emma had to admire the positivity she spreaded, which quite improved her mood, by the way.

Serving brought her back into years on a high school. Plastic trays with partitions for any supplements. Lucas led her to the table next to a window with last two seats right for them. Everyone glanced up at Emma as she was passing them.

"Ladies, this is Swan," Red introduced her as they sat sets of eyes looked up on her and she childishly examined the rise with corn and peas lying in front of her. "Swan, this is Aurora, Tee and Hui."

Emma just cursorily glanced up to see a girl with long wavy chestnut hair with light soft skin and big baby blue eyes, a tiny blonde having her hair brushed in a bun and the asian she remembered seeing before.

„Mulan." she corrected her friend and stuck her fork into a parched slice of cucumber. Red just nodded and mumbled with her mouth full. None of them looked more than thirty, caused probably by the fact that none of them were wearing make up.

"Speaking of that," Lucas started uncertainly and pointed on her with the tip of her fork before gathering another morsel. "How's your cellmate?"

"Fine, I guess." Emma took a full spoon of it as well and looked around to find Lip Scar. But as soon as she did, her hand automatically covered her mouth and she gracefully spit it out back on her plate.

"That's okay," Tee caressed the back of her hand and laughed over the distaste. "You''ll get used to it." Emma pushed her tray away and grabbed a cup with water. "What the hell-"

"Buckwheat," Red cut her off. "I told them it's not eatable but as if I was talking to a wall."

"When are you getting back to work?" asked Mulan.

"Tommorow. You know, I'm one of the volunteers in the kitchen. Even I'm practically just serving." She answered also Emma, who hadn't asked, yet.

"And besides that, what do you normally do in here?"

"May be surprised but there are lots things to do." Red swallowed and grabbed Emma's last tomato.

"Yeah, cleaning up toilets," Mulan said seriously before smiling. "I'm kidding. There is a playground outside, room with a TV and table tennis, gym and..."

"Library," Aurora completed the asian who afterward leaned to kiss her. Emma furrowed her eyebrows and glanced down at the table before slowly standing up.

"It was nice to meet you all."

She came to a trash can, threw the feculence inside and put the tray with cup onto it, where others were placed. But as she turned to leave, someone tall blocked her way.

"Hey, princess," Fox Hair smiled at her and got the rid of her own tray as well, still pressing her against the can so the blonde couldn't move anywhere. "I've got something for you."

"I'm Swan and I don't want anything from you." Emma tried to step forward but there wasn't much space and the girl was determined to keep herself up.

"Princess suits you better," she whispered puckering her nose. "It seemed you didn't like it." Her hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, eyes full of something... _deceitful? That's not it... _Everything Emma wished was to close her eyes forever because this gazing game was enough for the rest of her life. Her emerald eyes slid down to the chocolate and one could think there was a lion hungrily hypnotizing its prey.

"What for?" she asked suspiciously and swallowed not to start drolling. Fox Hair just waved her hand, not saying anything.

"Thanks," Emma said after a while and accepted the may not repeated offer. She remembered where this girl belonged to, very well, so there was no need to be rude or insult her.

"No problem at all. I'm just trying to help. Beginnings are always difficult." She pursed her lips in solicitude and stepped back to let her go.

Emma felt something stank there but the chocolate bar readily ended up in her pocket and she finally headed out.

"Swan!" A man's voice made her to stop at the door. It was the guard she'd met with Jones. He was looking after inmates while eating and his temple was stitched, now. She stiffted and waited for reprimand may even a punishment but instead, he just said: "Go straight through the hallway and in the end, on your left, is a door. Someone wants to talk with you." She would never imagine being so scared because of receiving a damn chocolate bar, but relieved and rushed out. More than anything she wished to see him again and the disappointment came way bigger when she'd found it. Her joints gently knocked the door of Dr. Hopper's office and walked in. There sat an older man with big round glasses drowned in stacks of paper on his desk. His sparse brown hair was slowly ebbing back and his face seemed tired. "You have to be Ms. Swan," his low voice said and he put the last paper away, focusing on her.

"Yes, that's me," she assured him and sat on a chair he motioned at.

"So, at first," he began and opened a file where she saw her photo. It was the one she took in metro station booth in Tallahassee. She had her shiny blonde and straightened hair brushed back in ponytail and her glasses with thick black frame put on. Right next to it was pinned the one they took after she'd arrived.

"If you need really anything, from the psychological side over any relationship problems... losing stuff, being bullied or if you see someone else appears to be in such a situation, come at any time. Actually, it's your obligation to tell me but if you find it safer..." He set his glasses, which slid down his nose and browsed the file, again. "No allergy, even serious health problems,... sufers from depression," he voiced and glanced up at her. She nodded and quickly added: "But I don't need any antidepressants." The doctor wrote something into it and turned the page.

"Look, Ms. Swan, you seem to be a sane person," he put it down and leaned forward, resting on his forearms and his hands clasped. Both frowned a little because they very well knew that merely irrationality had brought her to this place.

"These women in here are desperate, often feel loneliness and out of any closer contact. Sexual," he added to be sure she knew where he aimed to.

"It's obvious that they're willing to deal with it on their own and any lesbian interactions are the last thing we need. Of course, we have never let it go any farther and trust me, those girls quickly lost their lust. Lesbians are danger, remember that," he sighed and pulled his glasses up onto his head.

"I hope we understand each other, Swan."

"Yes," she swallowed thickly and stood up to leave. And before closing the door behind, he gave her yet, one advice. "Sometimes even making friends could be dangerous, try to stay as much isolated as you can."

She was walking back to her cell when a hand touched her shoulder, causing her to utterly jump out of her skin.

"Chill out, Swan," Jones said with his soothing voice, caressing her ears. _And soul. _She put her hand away from her chest but continued to walk as if she didn't care.

"Too much attention, don't you think?" she asked playfully. "Someone could think you're biased."

"I don't care about others. No one here has a reputation to spread such a gossip." he answered in a cold tone. She instantly felt uncomfortable and idiotic so she just kept walking toward her haven, not noticing that Jones smiled a wide smile and stopped.

"I think you'd appreciate some hygiene supplies but as you want." She also stopped and turned to him, seeing the towel with toothbrush and toothpaste, and completely fell for his honeyed smile. Emma took few steps to him and looked into his mystery eyes filled with sparks. This day gave her more than last half a year altogether and something like being afraid to look deeply into one's eyes was already passé. Especially, when it came to those captivating set of eyes.

"Gimme that!" she snapped and showed him her back, so he couldn't see the twitching corners of her mouth, leaving him alone.

She headed right to the bathroom, where moreless no one was. It seemed everybody had their evening needs done. She put the clothes off, leaving them on a bench pushed to the opposite wall of the room. Her bared feet got wet by the dirty puddles on the floor before she got inside and dragged the flower curtain to hide herself. Water was unpleasantly cold and she was afraid that it was because of boilers and that that's why she was there alone. No one wants to be stuck with shampoo on their hair with any water but icy to wash it away. But as long as she felt it getting warmer, the sound of drops drumming against the tiles and smell of the steam was everything she was able to perceive. After the purification she dressed up, again. She reluctantly got into her used panties and bra but stayed wrapped in the towel, though, wondering how it was going on with the laundry and pyjamas or whatever. The orange overall landed on her shoulder and she went from behind the corner to sinks. In that moment, someone else also went out of one of the toilets. Fox Hair. She smiled sweetly at Emma, who stood there just in a towel, watching her in a reflection of a mirror. She came to the sink next to the blonde and after washing her hands, she triumphantly lifted Emma's toothbrush up.

"Looks new," she examined it and turned to leave with her catch.

"Yeah and it's mine," Emma said calmly and placed her hands on her hips. There was no way she was scared of getting hit and so the inner equanimity shocked her. She watched the wild red curls covering the woman's back. She stopped by the door out and pouted back at the blonde. "I hope you liked the little snack." With that, she disappeared.

"That bitch," Emma thought, not being aware she hissed it through her clentched teeth. _It was obvious. Pretended kindness while she's all the way... _No, the word probably didn't even exist. The woman was just playing with her and that's how it starts. Ends with herself lying on the ground bleeding with no one around to help. She pressed the toothpaste and wiped the top with a tip of her index finger. Cleaning teeth with a finger could be compared with not doing it at all but the feeling you at least tried and the taste of a menthol was unexpectedly satisfying.

She finally came into her cell and stopped in the middle, watching her and Lip Scar's bed, alternately, when her cellmate walked in. She was wearing a black baggy t-shirt with some washed-out text and purple flip flops.

"Will you give me the bedding back?" The words slipped out of Emma's mouth. She couldn't recognize herself. As if she got hit by something what made her mind to light up. Her thoughts were swirling around her brave and hot (body)guard but on the other hand, she was still angry about the damn toothbrush and how some girl could think she's more than Emma. That was just not about to happen. She wasn't weak and she wasn't afraid. This was a prison and also a prove that she had the stomach to show she wasn't anyone's puppet anymore.

"Oh," Lip Scar uttered and sat on the bed, setting her feet under her bottom. "Of course, I'm sorry," her face broke into a brilliant smile and she took one of the pillows to throw it to Emma. That smile had frozen her on a place and she almost missed the brunette's move. She also pulled up a blanket from under her butt and this time reached her hand toward so Emma could take it on her own.

"Thanks," she said to the sound of announcement causing closing cells. She turned to place it on her bed, where a green unisex t-shirt with cotton shorts were composed. She immediately got it was supposed to be a sleepwear. Emma awkwardly put off her clothes, feeling Lip Scar's eyes on her back even she stared at her walkman when Emma glanced over her shoulder.

Lights got off and whole basement silenced. Just some whispering could be hear. Emma replayed whole the day behind her closed eyes. It was unbelievable twenty-four hours she would never think of to happen. Her thought march stopped by the converstaion with the doctor. Lesbians? There was even more she hadn't thought about. She always felt to be a straight one. It was given to her since she was born, naturally, but could she really fell in love with a woman? She did categorize good-looking and ugly girls in the streets but unlike speaking of boys, she had never said to herself _she's hot right to... whatever. _But one never knows.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm sorry for the long inactivity. I hope you enjoyed your summer holidays and also managed the start to a new school year as I did :D. I promise I will try to update regularly and you have really what to looking for. :)**

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_Chapter three: Request for a friendship accepted_

A morning hustle woke her up, still her eyes kept closed. The courage she gained yesterday decamped and she would just wrapped into her white fluffy blanket and curl up in a corner of the abandoned house on the edge of Tallahassee where she had left all these little things she collected throughout her life. Though, just the blanket was the only thing that really belonged to her, that made the sleep being comfortable no matter in which impasse or bench in undeground she remained.

Her cellmate was already gone as she noted after sitting up stretching her arms forward and up, yawning. The bed was perfectly made up. She watched the other inmates straggling to get the breakfast. Emma, herself had her stomach turned by the diverse feelings. She wanted to run far, far away, shout until breathless, laugh at her damnation and eventually cry over the tormenting feeling of emptiness. Once in her life she needed someone to tell her what is and not right, dust the dirt off of hands and picked her back up. But she had failed. No one was found while she was out there and now, it was too late.

She changed her clothes, getting herself in that awful gaudy thing and instead of cafeteria she headed through the long corridor and went up the stairs on her right. Sense of direction brought her into a large room whose smell of leather covers and yellowed pages of millennium old books hit her nose, recalling memories from the school years she had been sneaking into the part of library with banned books. The walls in prison library were covered entirely with shelves of books, and several bookracks took up most of the floor space. She was slowly passing all of them, not knowing what to look for. Most of the books were in a really poor condition, bearing titles she had never heard about. Probably some scrapsrated as worthless and thrown away. As her eyes were scanning the spines of books, she suddenly noticed one which was the other way round. She automatically pulled her out in order to turn it right but a small piece of paper fell down from it, saying:

"_False alarm, today. Be there."_

"Good choice," someone's voice said, scarying the hell out of her. She quickly rumpled the snippet and turned around to find a woman standing there. It was the one she met at the gatehouse, who clearly hadn't her day that day.

"I just -"

"Alcott's one of my favourites," She cut Emma and tilted her head for a short while. Emma finally forced herself to look at the book she was still convulsively holding.

"Little Women, yeah," her voice stammered quietly, and her mind readily reacted, inventing what to say to be able to put the book back, inconspicuously. "Actually, I was looking for something more present, you know." Emma smiled an innocent smile and slowly returned the book on its place while the other hand hide the paper ball, now wet by her sweating, in her sleeve.

"There's no many options but you may try this one," she voiced, still wearing a serious face without any emotions showed. Her hand reached the last shelves on the bookrack and she pulled out a thin novel covered in navy color and turned the title toward Emma, pressing the back of the book against her chest. "Ian McEwan."

"The Cement Garden," the blonde whispered its name for herself. "I've read that, once," she frowned while remembering.

"Really?" the brunette raised her eyebrow and handed it to Emma who reached out for it. Her fingertip tapped the front side. "Years ago but... I've always remembered just the end properly." A shy smile formed across her face. She hated those kinds of books, most of them describing her own life. But still, she wanted to know what others feel in those similiar situations they have to live with even it was distinct that in most of the cases played the main role writer's imagination. She just had always been finding a consolation in knowing that there are people having their life a hundred times harder. The brunette ducked her head, being fully aware what was Emma referring to. She understood the girl in front of her like someone who got there just accidentally. She knew the case and she had also read her file. Not much to read but mentally exhausting and sad, though. They were staring at each other. None of them having words to say until the other woman broke it.

"You want to borrow it?"

"I'd like to." The brunette waved at her to be followed to the counter. She opened a notebook lying there and browsed the right page. "Your number?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Your number. Everyone here has their own number. Writing Swan," she sighed and filled the first box with Emma's name.

"Thanks," Emma said and stepped back, confused and completely out of herself of what just happened. Another _friend_ she hadn't asked for?

"Emma?" The blonde looked up into those incredibly shiny cerulean eyes with dark blue ring around that were waiting for approvement to call her first name. No expression by the other party came so she just smiled awkwardly and added: "I'm Belle."

Emma went out, not able to process her mental status. Was she really going crazy? Belle seemed nice but was also putting Emma into a too emotional situation. She hadn't had many people around. Actually, no one. The fear from socializing had been pulling her down. Down deeper than bottom actually was. She wasn't used to it and everyone should know before her psychic collapse. Even the guard was a too big bite, though, his presence acted somehow else. As she was heading back to her cell, right Jones suddenly crossed her way. He smiled and raised his eybrow as passing her and she just caught a quiet _how's it goin'. _She smiled at the empty space in front of her and stopped, still hearing his slow steps as he was going away.

"Damn! I've had to lost my toothbrush." She cursed loudly and continued. She already could not hear his short subdued laugh.

* * *

"Hey," a deep hoarse voice muttered as chill ran down her spine. Emma was lying on her bed straight as a ruler, eyes closed and arms fold against her abs when Lip Scar's shadow fell across her face as the brunette leaned above. "You alright?"

Emma finally opened her eyes meeting another pair, as dark as if their depth was endless. The blonde strared into them as she caused the other woman to straighten.

"I'm fine," responded Emma and sat up, setting her head into her palms.

"You hadn't breakfast, did you?" Emma watched her adjusting the bed and for a moment tilted her head as it seemed her cellmate put something under the pillow.

"Catch it!" Lip Scar ordered and threw a red ball that Emma hadn't noticed before behind her back. She almost missed. "If nothing else, eating is important. I don't want to give you first aid after fainting," she smiled honestly and walked away. Emma looked at it all around its circuit before bitting into the apple as juices ran down her chin.

* * *

She had lied again. Her thoughts were getting deeper, changing its plot as she was falling asleep. She jerked always when relizing. Suddenly, she remembered the cellmate's movement as if she was hiding something and Emma couldn't displace the growing curiosity. She may have get something denied. Another walkman? Cell phone? Actually that was moreless Emma's wish even she didn't know how that would help her. She hadn't anyone to call. Though, she felt she had to know. The bed scrunched as she was getting on her feet and took a look out of her cell. The base was in a silence. Everyone was out. It seemed weird and she probably was also supposed be elsewhere but before figuring out she approached Lip Scar's bed. She uncovered the place under pillow to find a shard. She took it up and saw her reflect in a mirror fragment. One side straight and cut as it had been framed there and its adjacent side broke to a freaking sharp tip. Her fingers dropped it back as her brain sent there a warning message. She returned the pillow to an original state and start to stepping slowly back as a voice behind made her heart stop beating.

"Where are you?" squeaky voice echoed throughout the small jail space.

"Ruby," Emma breathed out, "you scared me." She came closer, pulling her out of the cell.

"Guilty? Wrong question," the tall dyed brunette asked and almost immediately answered herself with a short dramatic pause while pretending to think about it. Emma was still pulling her from behind until Ruby moved to walk by her side.

"It's cute how frightened you always are," She pursed her lips. Emma shook her head, hoping that Lucas wasn't about to abuse that to make a fun.

"Where are we going?"

"To pick you a class. I asked and no one has your name registered." They went through the dining room and Lucas stopped as they found themselves in another corridor.

"Class?" Emma asked, confused.

"Didn't you think you'll be all day long messing around, did you?" the brunette looked at her friend, wide-eyed.

"To be honest -"

"If you don't notify yourself in your course, you can get into trouble." Lucas kept lecturing the blonde and turned to continue in their way.

"Where would you like to go?"

"What are my options?" Lucas narrowed her eyes while remembering. "Pff, workshop, art, philosophy, theology," she started to throw her arms in directions of doors on both sides. "You can choose two because there is one before dinner, too. Just half hour."

Right as Emma was about to entrust her her decision, Ruby nipped in, again. "Me and girls, we've got philosophy if you'd like to join us." Emma instantly shook her head. "That's not for me," she whid. "I was thinking about the art," lies kept leaving the corner of her mouth. They continued to walk. Rooms with large glass windows were in this corridor. She saw some groups through it sitting in a circle, some behind their desk like at school, propped onto their elbows and totally bored.

"So, we have to split up," Lucas stopped by that last room they had passed. "Art's the last door. You'll recognize it, I promise," she sent her a wide smile and disappeard.

Emma came to a door with big childlike painted sun, smiling as if whole word should be okay. Her knuckles knocked the wood and she walked in. It was a small room with drawing easels placed in a circle so everyone could see the stand with two ceramic vases in the middle. Everyone turned to look at the _late_ new coming.

"Can I help you?" a small red haired woman with big round glasses scuttled to Emma.

"I.. I was told to pick a course." She stammered and look over her to note everyone got back to their work.

"A novice!" She squealed enthusiastically. "I'm glad to have you here. Now, just come with me to fill the registration. It's just a little form," she laughed shortly and glanced to the left to check if Emma is following her. The lady sat behind her computer and after some clicks she asked: "Tell me your number, deary."

"Ehm, actually, I don't know it, yet." she responded apologetically. The woman clicked her tongue against the palate. "You'll tell me next time. Take my easel over there." Emma doubtfully came to it and right before she grabbed the pencil someone's voice caused her to roll her eyes.

"Came for another allowance?"

* * *

After return to the cell from the art class, where Fox Hair was thankfully quiet, just looking amused by watching apparently scared Emma, who decided to ignore her presence, she found her cellmate already being there. She was sitting on her bed, listening music and staring at Emma who just found a new toothbrush placed on her pillow. Her heart pleasantly warm her up. She grabbed it and put it down on the little table behind her bed next to the book. Emma sat on her bed, massaging her temples, and glanced at her cellmate back. "What are you listening?"

"Huh?" The brunette pulled out one of the earphones and leaned forward.

"What are you listening?!" Emma voiced roughly and tried to fix it with a little smile, which became a weird smirk, because it wasn't the right person responsible for her irritability. Even _his_ deed just improved her mood. Lip Scar didn't answer, instead, she leaned back again, resting her back against the wall, and after a while she reached out her hand with the still held earphone. Emma hesitated, not being sure about that offer. But then she moved herself, sitting on the edge of the brunette's bed. She took the little plug and put it on. There was a song playing she recognized but wasn't able to named.

"Snow Patrols," Lip Scar said as if she could read in her mind. Emma nodded, pulling it out, but after the brunette took it back, she wrapped the earphones around and put it under the pillow. Emma immediately recalled the discovery she found her cellmate hiding. Was it still there? They were staring at each other while those thoughs were flowing through her mind and after she finally started to percieve the vicinity, her conclusion deduced by the brunette's look was to return to her territory but Lip Scar spoke to her, again: "I heard you've found new friends." Her legs that she had bent in knees and pressed against her chest she composed under her butt, now. Emma watched her and ducked her head, thinking of her answer.

"They're not really my friends. They were told to show me how things are going on in here." Her eyes found its way back to those darkest of all.

"Oh, someone's getting special treatment," the brunette purred.

"What do you mean?" Emma lashed out, narrowing her eyes, except, she clearly knew where this was aimed to.

"I mean you really had to impress someone," Lip Scar choosed evasive strategy and winked. Emma devoured every little movement of this expression as it came up seriously attractive. The blonde blushed. Not because it seemed that the guard was taking much more care of her than of anyone and everybody apparently noticed but because the doctor's words had been increasingly leaving its sense on her.


End file.
